


Asphyxiation

by HotGoatCheese



Series: Whumptober 2019 [19]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Asphyxiation, Burns, Fire, Gen, smoke inhalation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 14:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotGoatCheese/pseuds/HotGoatCheese
Summary: Ford thought he'd narrowly escaped the bounty hunters chasing him, and so he'd tried to go to sleep.





	Asphyxiation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InternetCannibal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InternetCannibal/gifts).

It'd been a narrow escape from the last dimension. Ford could still hear the heavy boots in his head, however he tried to let go of the thought. He could distance himself from the fear all he wanted, the memory stayed right there on the surface. Even safe in the lodging he had earned for the night by participating in this small village's food storage efforts for most of the day, all he could think of was the bounty that Bill had put on his head, and the hunters that sought it. 

Maybe he shouldn't have been thinking about them so loudly. Maybe Bill had directed someone to his location. Whatever happened, Ford didn't realize the smell in the air was trouble at first. It was a primitive town. Heavy smoke in the air could well just be a bonfire or some other event taking place in the town square. Ford had no interest in participating. There would be another rift in the wee hours of the morning, and Ford didn't want to miss it. For all that this provincial little society was nice and might merit some sociological study, Ford was on the trail of some high-end blueprints that he was certain there would be no leads for here.

Blueprints that would help him end this once and for all..

The smell of smoke only grew thicker. Ford was lying in bed, trying to sleep. His breathing was slow, deliberate, and square. Carefully counted to put him in an almost meditative trance. The trance was not for awareness, but for relaxation. To ease his mind and his body and slip away from the cares of his day. So it took significantly longer to realize that his cares had followed him.

The room was full of smoke before Ford realized there was even a problem. Ford woke from the state just before sleep, gasping for breath. He inhaled, which was a terrible mistake. Of course he shouldn't have inhaled. Suddenly his lungs were full of smoke rather than clean air, and they spasmed, trying to remove the offending particles. He gasped again, but it was useless. Worse than useless, and the smoke was hot. Ford felt as though he had inhaled fire. 

Smoke rose, didn't it? Ford dropped to the floor, falling flat onto his belly and coughed, and coughed and coughed. Trying desperately to expel the smoke. To get even the slightest breath of clean air. He started crawling, commando crawling really, like an infant too small to even rise up to its knees, toward the door. It wasn't far, and once there, Ford faced the near impossible task of rising to turn the knob. 

The knob was metal, and hot, and Ford was forced to face the question of how close the fire was. It didn't matter though, he had to escape. All six fingers closed around the hot metal and the sound he made wasn't quite a scream, though that was only through a force of will he didn't know why he took the time to expend. 

Opening the door was a mistake though, as the flames had already crawled up the staircase and was gushing black smoke so fast that he got a face full of soot for his effort. The coughing was a renewed, painful effort. Entirely involuntary and almost unnoticeable in the face of the heat on his face and down his lungs. Ford slammed the door closed and desperately looked around for another exit. 

It shouldn't have been so hard to find one, but his eyes were stinging, watering, and his mind was foggy from being near sleep. As it was, it still only took a few seconds, but that was still long enough to leave him utterly disoriented. He staggered over to the window. It took far too long, with his lungs burning, with his eyes burning, with the smoke cutting him off from air and his brain metaphorically and, to some degree literally, starving every millisecond it took him.

The air right outside the window was not fresh as he had hoped, but it was not thick with smoke, And Ford managed to get a gasp of something with a little oxygen. It left him coughing all the harder, and tears were slipping down his face. It was't just smoke heating his insides, it was fear. Raising his pulse, and all he could do was ignore it and hope it went down on its own. Focus in spite of everything. The pain, the fear, it would pass. 

He gripped the curtain with one hand, and the window frame with the other, and then lifted a foot to kick out the mesh netting meant to keep bugs out. He shifted so his hip caught on the bottom of the windowpane and swung his other leg over as well. Then he caught another breath of oxygen and clung tightly, mindlessly, to the top of the windowpane as it went straight to his head. 

Through his coughing, he wondered why he'd done that. The goal was jumping. Still, he wasn't on the first floor, exactly. Ford hesitated another moment, a moment that he wasn't at all sure he could afford. Then, with a push, he jumped out the window. 

Then he fell, and fell, and fell. 

Ford had no idea if he landed correctly or not. The moment he hit the ground, everything went black. 


End file.
